Don't Look Back
by Caeleinn
Summary: Alexa Hawke has a choice before her; one that she doesn't really want to make. Anders awaits her decision, already accepting the fate she chooses for him. *Spoilers for end game of DA2!* This is the first thing I've written in over a year, and my first foray into the Dragon Age fandom.


"Anders…how…how _could_ you?"

His shoulders flinched involuntarily at the tone of her voice. It wasn't an angry sound; no, it was worse than that. She was disappointed. He looked down at his hands, hanging loosely between his knees and felt his body curl in tighter in reaction to the sound of a single sniff from behind him. He couldn't turn to look at her. "I…I had to do something. I simply couldn't stand by any longer."

Alexa stared down at his back and lifted one hand to wipe the tears that were falling over her cheeks. The inside of her chest felt hollow; her stomach was tied in knots and she felt as if she were going to throw up at any moment. She noticed her hand shaking violently and she quickly lowered it and gripped the dagger at her side. "You slaughtered innocent people to make your point! There were some good people in there! Not all of them are like Alrik or Meredith! Some of them would have listened to you, would have worked with you! But now, there won't be that chance. Because you …"

Her voice trailed off as she hiccupped on a sob. His head dropped even lower and his voice was soft as he said, "I'm sorry, my love. I'm so sorry it came to this. But I told you, time and time again, that I would only break your heart. But this was all me. I never wanted you to be blamed for any of this. That's why I couldn't tell you; they had to see your shock for real to know you had no hand in this."

Alexa gritted her teeth. "You didn't want me involved? Dammit, Anders! Don't you see that there was no way to keep me from being involved? They want me to decide whether you live or die! How in the hell am I supposed to decide that?!"

She abruptly turned and walked a few feet away from him, crossing her arms over her chest and taking a few deep breaths to center herself. She glanced back over her shoulder; he hadn't moved from the crate he was sitting on. Her mind began to wonder how that crate had escaped being destroyed in the blast…or that barrel over there. She grasped at anything to keep from having to think about possibly killing her lover.

Anders tried not to turn and look at her. It would be too painful. He wanted his last memory of her to be of the night before this one. They had shared a meal on the rug in front of the fireplace in their bedroom, taking turns reading some of Varric's stories that he had finally written down. The evening had ended with the two of them riding a storm of passion and love. He wanted to cherish that memory for the rest of his life, however long that might be. He heard her footsteps approaching behind him, and caught himself from flinching as he heard the sound of her dagger leaving its sheath. _At least it will be quick. Lexi isn't one to let a person linger, _he thought sadly.

Alexa stared down at his back and rolled the handle of her dagger in hand. She knew exactly where to plunge it for a quick death. She could at least give him that…

Both of them were surprised when she quietly said, "Just…go, Anders. Leave. I can't….just go."

He sat for what felt like a full minute, his ears hearing her words, but his brain didn't quite comprehend them. He slowly pulled himself to his feet and stood for a moment, his back still to her. He turned his head only a little and spoke over his shoulder his last words to her. "For what it's worth, Alexa…I do love you. I know it means little in the face of what I've done, but it is the truth. You were always my one bright light in this city, the one that always guided me to what became the first home I've had in more than a decade. I can never atone for what I've done to you and I don't expect you will ever forgive me. But I truly do love you. And I always will."

With that, he began to walk away, feeling his heart shatter a little more with every step. He didn't know where he would go; he couldn't go back to Ferelden. He would be hunted all over the Free Marches. Maybe Orlais or Antiva?

Alexa watched him as he slowly walked away from her. Time seemed to stand still as she gazed at his shoulders, once squared and confident, now stooped and slumped under his feathered jacket. His hands dangled at his side. He didn't even have a staff strapped to his back. How in the world did he think he could get by without a staff? The rest of her life in Kirkwall suddenly flashed in front of her eyes, and it wasn't a pretty sight. The "Champion" of Kirkwall, pointed at, laughed at, gossiped about. Oh, her? Isn't she the one whose crazy lover blew up the Chantry? Just how innocent was she in that, anyway? And then, there was that other thing…the thing _she_ hadn't told _him_ about yet…hadn't told anyone, in fact.

"Anders?"

He stopped walking. His head jerked a little, as if he wanted to look back. _No, don't look. Remember her as she was last night. Don't look, don't hope, don't wish…_

She took one step forward and said, "We'll need supplies if we're to survive on the run. And you need a staff, since it appears your other one broke. I'm sure there's a spare at the house…"

Her words were cut off as his lips crashed down onto hers.


End file.
